Demonic Memory-Personal Narrative

The door quickly, yet quietly opened and then shut just as quickly and quietly. A light sniffle could be heard and the quick shuffle of feet and the ruffling of a book bag could be heard. She peaked her head around the corner just in time to catch a fleeting glance of the backpack as her son slinked into his bedroom and quickly shut the door. She glances at her watch and realizes she heard the sound of the bus dropping him off twenty minutes ago. Her motherly instincts could detect something was wrong; she quietly crept to his door and her hear broke at the sound of her son’s quiet sniveling. She then softly cracked the door open and then gracefully walked in to comfort her downcast child.

Every stair that I took I looked over a different page in the book. I wanted to make sure I knew every word so I could read the story that night. Once I got to my room, my mom was waiting patiently beside the bed for me. I looked down at the book in my hands, it was old, barely hanging on by the thread binding from years of use. Then I breathed in deeply and mumbled “Can I read the story tonight?” I was afraid she couldn’t hear me, but she did because with a smile she nodded her head. Filled with excitement I climbed into my spot on the bed and quickly opened the book. My mom sat next to me and held one side of the big book while her other arm was around my shoulder. Then I begun to read “Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,”. My voice squeaked through each page as I tried my best to read the story just as my mom always did. The smooth paper glided under my tiny finger as I traced each sentence to keep my place. The rhythm of my voice was not fluid but

I haven’t been able to sleep for the past month. I hear my door creak and I look at the door. I see someone open the door very slowly before coming in. I look to see Maria tiptoeing into my room. “What are you doing?” I ask “You know your mom would kill me if she saw us.”

Inside the small house it was pitch black and completely silent. So dark, in fact, that one could not see their own hand in front of their face. The deeper into the house, the darker it became. Now into the family room and up the stairs.A distinct sound of scratching emanated from the door at the end of the hall. Inside, the room seemed to belong to a young girl, but only because the little girl nestled in bed deemed it so.

“Madeline,” I hear through my endless solitude. It was quiet enough that I could have imagined it. I must have wanted to hear it so bad that I thought it was there. Thwarted by my realization, I close my eyes and try to fall asleep. “Madeline” it says again. I open my eyes to find that same sunny ceiling, in an entirely empty room. “Madeline.” It

After a few more minutes of waiting Anna decided to get out of bed and walk down to the food court to see if her father was there. After getting out of bed, Anna found a note taped to her father’s chair that she hadn’t seen before scripted in scribbly letters saying Based on your actions he might come back don’t tell anyone about this and he will come back unharmed. Anna hurriedly found the bag of her clothes that her mother had delivered overnight and pulled on a hot pink mini skirt and a white long sleeve crop top. After getting dressed Anna opened her door and stepped outside, there was no one anywhere to be seen. She continued to walk down the hall and there was still no noise and no one in sight. She walked straight to the elevator and went down to the first floor where the food court should be, but there was no one there either, the hospital had been abandoned and she was sure that the songbook and the object that played her melody the night before were somehow behind it all. She ran back up to her room as carefully as she could trying not to hurt her arm, and once she arrived at the door she grabbed the music book off the desk beside of her bed, tried to flush it down the toilet, and stuffed her cell phone in her bag of clothes that her mom had bought. She was about to pick up her bag when she heard a new melody right outside of her door. La, La, La, La, La, La. La, La, La, La, La. La, La, La, La, La. La, La, La, La, La, La, La. She wanted to see what was making the noise so she carefully opened her door and peeked through the opened crack. There nothing was there! She grabbed her bag of clothes and ran down the steps as quickly as she could but then she heard a voice behind her, “Aaaaannnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaa!!!!” the voice moaned “Aaaaannnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaa it isn’t safe at your house!!!!” said the voice. She spun around and saw a scrawny old man

I decided to walk up to the house on the hill, where Nancy stays. I walked up the stairs, holding tightly to the railing as the ground was awful slippery. I finally reached the top and noticed the light from the attic room turn on. When I walked to the door, I noticed it was slightly open. For fear that something might have happened to Nancy, I walked inside. I could hear muffled laughter of a woman from upstairs. The floors creaked as I walked toward the stairs. The lights were dimly lit and every once in a while, they would flicker. "Nancy?" I called out as I placed my foot on the first step. The muffled laughter

Suena was walking home and she felt like she was being followed, but she thought it was because of the horror movie she watched the night before. It was about a twenty minute walk for Surena to get home and she often enjoyed but that day she didn’t enjoy it. When she got home there was a note on her fridge from her mother saying she’ll be back in a couple of hours and that there was leftovers in the fridge. She still had that icky feeling that someone was watching her, she kept saying in her head that it was just the horror movie scaring her. Her dog Belle was eating the couch again, when her mom got home she’d be mad. Surena went up stairs to her bedroom and forgot to lock the door that day, when her mother warned her many times before to

My mother was out of town, so I knew it was not her. I grew afraid of the strange woman in my house, the maroon-colored walls in my bedroom was giving me an ominous feeling, making my room look stained with blood. I went quietly out of my door and down the hallway, knowing that they were arguing in the kitchen by the volume of their voices. I paused in the middle of the hall, unsure whether to continue or to go back to my bedroom. I only decided on the former after I heard a muffled shout and the woman’s voice laughing. This decision was the biggest mistake of my life.

I had just gotten home from school and was standing before my front door starring at it in apprehension of what would most likely greet me on the other side. "Hopefully, today's different," I thought tiredly. Opening the front door I stepped silently inside and quietly closed the door then headed towards my room only to pause at the bottom of the stars as I realized there was no sound coming from upstairs like there usually was. I resumed walking up the stairs thinking to myself "wow, for once they've actually considered that they have a son living with them." At least that's what I thought until, right as I was about to enter my room, loud moans sounded from two different directions. "Or not," I thought in annoyance and slammed my door which did nothing to stop the moans.

I made it upstairs, looking around. I didn’t see Mason, or my sister, for that matter. I wondered if maybe the drunk girl had been mistaken. I looked around at the closed bedroom doors. All was quiet. I didn’t think anyone was up there, not until I started to hear the moans and

My mother had left my dad’s house slippers by the coat rack behind the door. I was grateful to her as the floor felt like ice. Hanging up my coat, I slipped into my dad’s bathrobe, which was hanging on its peg. We had a fireplace in the living room and the chimney exited the west side of the roof. I smelled the smoke of the dying fire, and I knew my mom was in bed. The bedrooms were located on the second story. Her room was located at the end of the hallway, and my room was at the head of the stairs above the

It was late Tuesday, and I was up late reading an allegory when a muffled thud pulled me back to reality. I sat up still as a statue while I listened. the sound seemed to be coming from downstairs. I sprang out of bed and ran into the across the hallway.

Tuesdays in the fall of the 2012 and spring of 2013 were days that I felt like I was in a room tied to a chair in place where there were no lights, no human that I could speak to get me out of this lake of fire. On these dark days, I went to an after school class that my parents got me into so I can

It was early one summer afternoon, shortly after lunchtime, when I heard my mom scramble towards the door. There was little noise, besides her loud stomps and faint cries through the drywall. The wind whistled faintly through my slightly open windows. Suddenly, the air conditioning kicked in startling me. It sounded as if it was a faint boat in the distance. I could make out the sound of the air conditioning through my vents. My brother’s television powered on, as well as my dad’s. They whispered silently through the insulation. Eventually, it all turned off and once again there was my mom’s loud stomps and faint cries.